


The Leather Jacket

by callmechristinae



Series: Livejournal Migration [20]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-11
Updated: 2006-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmechristinae/pseuds/callmechristinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger’s had this leather jacket as long as they can remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Leather Jacket

As long as any of the Bohemians have known him, Roger has had this big worn leather jacket. It’s probably the only piece of clothing he owns without any holes or tears in it. It has these straps across the shoulders with metal knobs pinning them down, a zipper going up the front, and these strange buckles on the sides that he never uses.  
  
When they first met, Mark thought Roger was just another wannabe rocker with a second hand leather jacket, a metal necklace, and bright bleached hair. He kept to himself for the most part, slipping in late at night while he thought everyone else was sleeping, never noticing Mark and Collins watching him sneak in from behind a closed door. Benny always pretended not to care, but he was always hiding out with them.  
  
For those first few months, Roger always wore his jacket. They never saw him without it, no matter how hot it got in the loft that New York summer. They didn’t mention it because, come on, they all had their own strange quirks. Mark had his scarf, Collins his knit cap, and Benny, well, Benny had clean clothes.  
  
Of course, when one’s roommate is wearing a heavy leather jacket in 90 degree heat, one begins to wonder. And when that one is Tom Collins, one speaks out.  
  
“Will you take off the fucking jacket already, or are you just going to tell us now whether you want to be scrambled or over easy?”  
  
Roger just smiled and kept strumming on his guitar.  
  
Roger hadn’t really been a part of the group back then like he is now. He was just the roommate, not the friend. He was the one watching from the corner of the room while Collins chased Mark around the room because, damnit, he wanted to be the top hat, not the stupid sports car. He sat and watched while Benny tried to make pancakes in that ridiculous chef’s hat, at least until there was so much smoke in the apartment that Mark stopped him and made cinnamon toast. He sat and watched while Collins and Benny laughed about the latest message Mama Cohen had left.  
  
Slowly though, very slowly, things began to change. Roger laughed at their jokes, as horrible as they were. He joined them for dinner. He even began to spend some nights at home. He was probably the only rock star in the East Village who’s Friday night consisted of burnt popcorn and playing Monopoly until four in the morning.  
  
It was Friday night, almost six months after Roger had moved in, and the four guys were settling down for another night of board games when it happened. The three men all looked at each other as Roger took his jacket off and draped it over the back of their worn couch. He jumped a bit as he turned around and saw three pairs of eyes boring into him.  
  
“What?” He was just answered with shrugs as they all turned back to the game.  
  
Roger still wears his jacket whenever he leaves the house, but he always takes it off once he’s comfortable.  
  
One time, after he got back from some school sponsored trip, Collins was talking to Mark about their guitar playing roommate. He was excited about all these philosophical theories he had been reading about, and Mark was the only one who was willing to listen and would be able to talk back. He explained how everyone has something that acts as a protective and comforting shield, like a baby’s blanket. Collins had decided that that’s what Roger’s leather jacket was. He wore it when he was in a new situation because it made him feel safe and secure. But, once they were all friends and he was comfortable in his surroundings, he didn’t need to wear it anymore. He even has this habit of burying his hands in his pockets when he’s especially nervous.   
  
Now, Roger tries to pass on that feeling to other people, even if he doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing. That first night he met Mimi, he wrapped her in his jacket as she trembled. It wasn’t a surprising sight to see Mimi walking around the loft with the leather jacket draped over her shoulders, often not much else on, those wonderful months the two were together and happy before all the drama happened.  
  
He does it for all his friends. When Angel was in the hospital, was never seen without the worn leather jacket at least laying on the foot of the bed, as long as Roger didn’t need it to brood in the corner. When Joanne came over, upset over an argument with Maureen, the first thing Roger would do would be to hang the jacket over her shoulders. When Collins got really drunk that one night was thought the boogie man was coming to get him, Roger let him hide his head underneath it.  
  
Mark didn’t realize how much he had come to depend on the feeling of the worn leather wrapped around his body when he was upset until Roger left for Santa Fe. He threw himself into his work with more fervor than ever before, distracting himself and hiding just like Roger had accused him of doing.  
  
Then, Roger came back and they found Mimi and Maureen and Joanne were getting along and life was good.  
  
“You okay Markie?”  
  
Mark glanced up as Roger stuck his head in the doorway of his bedroom, a big toothy grin on his face. Mark coughed delicately behind his hand, the flu having made his body weak and trembling. It was nothing serious, and it would pass, it just sucked when one was in the middle of it.  
  
“We made you soup!” Mimi shouted, bouncing happily into the room. Roger made his way in carefully after her, carrying the heated up bowl of Campbell’s while Mimi hopped onto the mattress. Mark tried to protest as the slender girl began to spoon feed him, but quickly quieted when she stuck out her bottom lip and looked at him under thick eyelashes.  
  
He glanced up as Roger hung the leather jacket over his own slender shoulders, settling down on the side of Mark opposite his girlfriend. The two smiled at each other until Mimi began chatting excitedly about the new girl at work, who definitely wouldn’t last for more than a week.  
  
None of them could remember a time Roger didn’t have that leather jacket or have any idea where it had come from. They had never seen the wrinkled picture hidden under Roger’s mattress of a young boy sitting on the knee of a leather jacket wearing man who had Roger’s eyes and hadn’t lived to see his son’s tenth birthday. They never saw when, late at night after everyone was asleep, Roger would take the picture out and give it a soft kiss before sliding into bed, the big worn leather jacket resting nearby, just in case.


End file.
